With Sorrow, I Must Admit

I have not whispered this before tonight. I have not even wanted to admit this to myself until quite recently.

Its a change in my perception of the world and my observation of it that I don’t like but must acknowledge is true.

I have watched airplanes since I was a kid. Love to watch them and think about how they work and the thrill of being in the air. Late at night, while living in Jamestown, NY, we would all lay in the backyard and watch the airplanes flyover from Chicago to New York and Boston. Here in Schenectady, the daily flights of the National Air Guard and the C130 cargo planes are loud but still amazing.

And there is nothing quite a thrilling as being near LaGuardia or even on Route 7 watching a plane coming to land directly over your head as you drive.

What has changed?

I must admit that for years now and more so since the safe emergency watering in the Hudson, when I am looking at planes in the air I am more watching in case there is an emergency than watching to tickle my imagination. I almost want to have a video camera with me for every flight that I watch.

Its odd. I am happy to fly and not frightened in the least. Its a sort of public responsibility I feel to make sure that I see the plane safely out of my field of vision. I wouldn’t want there to be a problem and not have witnessed it for whatever value such witness would provide.

Its not that I expect anything to happen. That’s not quite it. Its more a sense of responsibility for the call to action that might be required should there be a problem.

I am not an ambulance chaser or a conspiracy theorist in the least.

But, I admit, a flying plane has gone from tickling my day dreaming capacity to turning on a sort of parental sense of watchfulness.